


Though We Shall Not Leave

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Ghosts, The Avari, journeys, the nature of life and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26206522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Aegnor died, but that does not mean he left Andreth's side for long.
Relationships: Aegnor | Ambaráto/Andreth | Saelind
Comments: 19
Kudos: 36
Collections: Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2020





	Though We Shall Not Leave

**Author's Note:**

> There were so many different possible stories that could have been written for this art. After writing so many alternate drafts and stories for it, I hope the story below lives up to the art in some way. Thank you to itariilles for the art and being open to my ideas, and also for introducing me to the song “In The Wind” by Lord Huron, which partially inspired both the art and the fic.

Artwork by [itariilles](https://ehhhtelion.tumblr.com)

The flames had come from the North too suddenly to be completely avoided, and too suddenly for all of them to flee safely. 

Andreth had sent those who had tried to help her flee away with sharp words that she would remain here alone and that they should flee. The first to leave had kept glancing back over their shoulders, begging her to go with them. 

The last to leave had been unable to see her anymore, flames consuming all of their lands as the scattered remains of the elven forces fled beside them, bringing news of their lords’ deaths. Doubtless some of those who fled into the flames would flee to Finrod’s aid or Finrod’s lands, and word would spread of her fate that way. 

It was not that she did not see the wisdom in fleeing. There was life beyond the shores of the lake, and she was disinclined to give Morgoth a greater share of victory than he had already taken from them all by allowing him to kill her now. But she was likewise disinclined to give him a greater share of victory by increasing the risk that others would be killed helping her flee, or by giving him the ability to make her flee her home when death came soon for her either way. 

She would stay here by the shore of the lake and wait for what came. 

The orcs came first, but not for her. They fled down the bank screaming of fire and death, and while Andreth held only the barest of pity for them, pity them she did. For Morgoth had never cared for his servants, and evidently did not care now if they burned in his lust for power and domination over Men and Elves. She watched as they ran past her hiding spot, careful to not draw their attention. They ran as though a fire was upon them, even as the flames spread in other directions but did not touch where she was. 

She closed her eyes and slept after that, cradled in the roots of one of the few trees still standing. She did not know if it still lived itself, or if it was simply too large for even the dragonfire to have completely reduced it to rubble, but it continued to stand in spite of all. 

She woke near the turn to night, and walked towards the lake as dusk settled. It was dangerous to be out then, when all manner of Morgoth’s servants walked, but more dangerous to sleep and not know who walked beside her or above her, seeking to destroy what they could. 

The lake shore was unusually quiet and still. The armies had moved on, but stragglers had always stayed behind before to slay who they could and take what they wished. But there was none here waiting for Andreth, only a glowing flicker in the distance that she walked towards. It started as only the barest flame, glowing gently and seemingly at odds with the harsh fires that had first burnt the lands, the kind of flame that had once scared Morgoth’s servants away from their fires as they had first come to these lands. 

She continued to walk forward. With each step the fire seemed to gain more of a shape, and at first she wondered if it was Morgoth’s servant, before dismissing that thought. Morgoth’s servant would keep his other servants from fleeing. 

Then she wondered if it was one of the spirits that lived in these lands. The trees had called for justice, and their shepherds as well, bellows of rage filling the forest as it had burned. So too, Andreth suspected, had the river spirits called out too, as flames overwhelmed everything in their path. If there were other spirits here, they may well walk as a flame and seek their revenge.

But neither was that suspicion correct, she realized as she stood but an arm’s length away from the spirit. 

For a moment she thought that the tales of Aegnor’s death had been exaggerated, for surely that was Aegnor standing there, watching the shores as though he was all that stood between her and the forces of Morgoth. 

“You have been missed by your people, Andreth. They told my brother you are dead now,” Aegnor said, shifting his gaze from his watch to her. “But you did not die, even in this land that has seen countless deaths.” 

It was Aegnor, and yet it was not. For Aegnor had not been as philosophical as Finrod in his life, and had only mourned the differences in their fates, not debated them, and would not have phrased his words so. Aegnor had never looked as he did now, either, fire flickering around his edges as though he was some great spirit of flame and shadow instead of an elf. 

“And you did,” Andreth said, certainty settling deep into her bones. Aegnor had died, and their happiness had been avoided only by the folly of elves who feared death so deeply that they did not enjoy the time that was given to them, and their doom written by the same. This was not Aegnor returned alive in flesh.

“I did,” Aegnor agreed. 

She could see the lake behind him and through him where they had spent time together. Their reflections reflected on it, and that gave her the strength to keep speaking. 

“And yet you are still here, though your people would say that only those unwilling and unwise refuse the call of the Halls.” Andreth kept her gaze steady, though she was already certain this was Aegnor and not some trick. “Your brother and I have had many discussions of such, and how your grandfather dwells there now, and your uncle. He had given me the impression that such delays in joining them would only be the work of evil.” 

“Finrod is considered wise among the Noldor, and I will not discount his views entirely.” Angrod paused then, and this too was new. He kept himself silent for a moment, as Andreth waited and watched. “But our sister is considered wise among the Noldor too, and she is the student of Melian the Maia moreover, and yet I still did not seek her wisdom or that of Lord Cirdan, who is accounted wise among the Sindar and has counted enough years on these shores to have seen our people leave and return. It is too late now for me to seek such, but I shall not rely entirely on my eldest brother’s opinions to make my choices.” 

Andreth smiled then. It was not that she had not loved Aegnor in their youths, when even his unquestioning devotion to the ways of his people had seen them parted. She had, and she had lived alone since then out of that love. But she was older now, and the world had changed, burnt by fire to new ashes and what would grow from them. And Aegnor had changed as well, even though the dead seldom did on these shores. 

“Then what do you intend to do?” The night was growing darker, but still she kept her eyes solely on Aegnor. It was his choice that had brought them here, and it was his choice that would determine what they did in the future. 

In this, at least, Aegnor remained as decisive as he had been when they first met. He embraced her first, before speaking as he held her. “To remain with you, if your will allows me such. To wait by these shores for your return, if your will will not. To dwell with you as we should have in your youth, and to not allow death to come between us, mine or yours.”

“And if I wish you to dwell beside me sometimes, but to leave me at others, even if my will dooms me in your eyes?” It hurt to ask such questions, to toss her own fears and losses like daggers into Aegnor’s chest. 

It had hurt more to be the one left behind under the guise of avoiding pain, when they had both known it would come regardless to them, for such was the fate given by Morgoth’s deeds. Death had always been in their fates, and only what could be taken from its jaws would be their happiness. 

“Then I would beg your leave to remain close enough to scare away any who would do you harm, but I shall not remain at your side if the idea of such is entirely against your will. I do not judge such fair to you, when I have ignored your will before and doomed us both.” 

“Princely words, but wise as well.” Andreth met his eyes again. “And when my doom comes to us?”

“If your death and our doom comes today, or ten years from now, my answer is the same - I will wait for you where I may, here by the lake, in a new land we find ourselves in, or in the Halls, as fate allows me to. But I shall not forsake my love, nor dwell in endless happiness in Valinor where you may not join me.” Aegnor turned then, looking away from Andreth into the darkness.

She did not speak as she waited, but simply allowed him to hold her in an embrace that she could only feel as the lightest of winds. 

“I have learned,” Aegnor said finally. “Once I thought all my happiness and safety could be found in Valinor. Such a belief was false, and death walked among us there and destroyed my family. Once I thought that by leaving you, I had granted us both happier fates, and such was false as well, for death came sooner to me than you, and my return has come only by such means as would see me branded dangerous by my people.” 

“You will not venture towards your brother’s lands, then, even though they are likely the safest ones around left available?” Andreth knew even as she said it why Aegnor would not, but she waited for him to speak before she did again. It would do neither of them any good if they neglected to lance out the pain of leaving everything and everyone else behind. 

“Nay, Andreth. I shall not take you to my brother’s lands unless you wish me to,” Angrod said. His eyes glowed brighter in the depths of night. “For he will not accept me there, when I was supposed to go to the Halls and instead I remain here waiting for you.” 

“Your brother is too convinced of his own stories sometimes,” Andreth said. “For even if you are changed, you are not a servant of Morgoth, for doubtless he would have you walk among us in the height of your powers, with some pretty tale of how you escape.” 

“Perhaps. But my brother fears less Morgoth’s tricks, for he could see through them and is skilled in the use of such games, and more the fates granted to elves who resist the call. But I have not heard the call as deeply as it is often spoken of, for there are other fates that call to me instead.” Aegnor smiled then, lifting his hand. “But will you not walk beside me, Andreth? For the night is cold and I would have you warm, but I must complete my watch.” 

They kept the watch, that night and the next and the next as the flames of battle slowly died down in the distance. Word soon came in the tongues of birds and on the wind. The High King was dead, and his eldest son now ruled. The Sons of Fëanor were scattered towards the wind, and only Hithlum and Himring remained standing. Finrod had been rescued only by the valiant efforts of Andreth’s kin. The destruction of the Noldor and the free lands seemed close to complete, and yet Andreth and Aegnor remained in some degree of safety. 

Snow fell from the sky, but it did not touch them. Aegnor’s hands glowed with fire at times, and at other times his eyes did, and no snow could have touched a spirit in any case. But neither was Andreth touched by frost, besides the strands of hair Aegnor brushed gently away from her forehead as they walked, for he kept small fires dancing around her. 

She did not question such fortune, nor what it had cost Aegnor to burn like that. He did not seem pained by such, only by the times when he moved too slowly and a snowdrop fell upon Andreth’s shoes or cloak. 

Andreth was gladdened when the few animals that had survived the destruction began to appear, drawn by Aegnor’s singing as the days slowly lengthened and spring came back to the lake. Some of them he appeared to know by name, greeting them as though they were his returning subjects, and others he greeted only with an introduction before they continued on their way. 

The animals too remembered their lord, and were gladdened by his survival in any form, though how and why they did not understand. Still, the orcs ran from his appearance and the wolves ran too, even as a fox darted towards them, avoiding the dark that chased it, and the orcs running was enough for the fox to trust them. 

Aegnor smiled at the fox, kneeling down until it came face to face with him. She knew not of what they spoke, but eventually Aegnor stood again. “He says there are more trees and caves to the east that have not been destroyed, and if we make our way in that direction, we shall eventually pass away from these lands into those that still are unmarked by war.” 

“There are no places unmarked by the war against the dark,” Andreth said. That had been a lesson she had learned long ago. “Such will not be possible unless Morgoth is defeated for good, and all his works are removed from the world.” 

“Nay, perhaps not, but the lives of foxes are short, and they do not remember ancient terrors as we do, or even those of a few decades' time. If he says it is free of destruction, he must mean that it is free of what has recently come down upon us, and that is enough for him. If we can make our way there, we may find it possible to exist in peace for a short time.” Aegnor looked at her. “I shall not make our decision, but leave it to you.” 

They went east, following the directions the fox had given them. When Andreth slowed, Aegnor disappeared into the forests, eventually returning each time with some elk or deer that had been going the same direction and could be convinced to aid their escape for as long as they went the same direction. When they judged it safest, they continued to curl together, Andreth walking in dreams and Aegnor keeping his watch, though she sometimes woke to him conversing with whatever animal had appeared in their sanctuary that time. If the times that Aegnor spent speaking to those who knew of safe water and safe lands were valuable, so too were the times she woke to find that one had come with nothing to speak of but a missing acorn or a trampled nest, for those were the times that Aegnor would laugh and look once more like his old self. 

The destruction did lesson as they passed through lands, though sometimes Aegnor would shake his head and mutter of how once his cousins had dwelt in those lands, or how Finrod had ventured there once on a hunt. But eventually they came to lands that even Aegnor had to admit he had only heard of in stories from those who had been on the March or from the Green Elves who had come to Beleriand last. Always did they seek out a lake to rest beside, even as they crossed over mountains and into the new lands there. 

She did not ask him why, for she had seen him behind her shoulder looking into the waters and watching their reflections. 

“My sister had intended to come this way eventually, with her new husband,” Angrod said one day as they walked along a river through a forest. “I do not know if she still intends to come now that Menegroth is surrounded.” 

“The one who wishes for her own lands?” Andreth looked at the woods around them. The elves they had left that morning had been suspicious of them, but not in the ways she had suspected they would be. Indeed, it had not been Aegnor’s appearance that had surprised them, nor that had gathered the looks of doubt. Aegnor’s fate had not been remarked upon in any way. 

It had been the speech that marked them both as coming from the areas around Doriath. Once they had made it clear that they wished not to rule, and that they wished not to stay in these lands, they had been welcomed to the fire and a hot drink pressed into Andreth’s hands. 

“Yes, Galadriel. She does not like it under the rule of our uncle and cousins - women do not rule there, be they the wives or sisters of kings or not. Menegroth is more welcoming to her, for Melian has taken her under her teaching, but there Elu’s rule is set and her role is defined more by Celeborn’s status than her own. Not that he wishes to hold such above her, but still, they wish to make their own place some day.” Aegnor looked around. “If Finrod was here, or Galadriel, doubtless they would have some foresight if such will happen or not.” 

“Foresight is not an absolute. She may make her way here or not, but even if your brother was to have some sight of such, who can say if it would hold true?” Andreth looked into the waters, seeing Aegnor’s face reflected beside her own. “Your brother did not foresee a happy end for us, and here we are.” 

“Are you happy?” Aegnor’s voice caught on the last words. 

She turned to him, and considered what to say. There were doubtless longer sentences she could have spoken, and explanations she could have given, but she settled only on one. “Yes.” 

They did not speak again that day, but simply sat and watched their reflections in the water. The sun sat, and Andreth dozed against the bank. The sun rose, and she woke to watch the light shine through Aegnor. 

“Are you happy?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he said, looking up at her. “Yes. I only wish we had not had to leave our homes for such.” 

She ran her fingers over the bracelet he had given her once. The pearls had come with him from Valinor, he had said, some of the many that scattered the beaches of his grandfather’s lands. “But if you had not left your home in the first place, you never would have reached these lands, nor we would have met.” 

Aegnor looked up at the sun. “Perhaps Valinor was never really my home, or perhaps it was only one for a brief time. Rest a moment more, I will find a mount to bear you on our journey today.” 

He vanished into the woods with those words. Andreth waited, looking further into the water, and wondering if the glimpses she saw of others were her imagination or other spirits that roamed these woods. 

“Do all elves look at houseless elves as the Noldor do?” They had passed a mile further into the woods when she finally asked the question, a buck carrying her swiftly as Aegnor followed beside them. . 

“I do not know. The Vanyar do, and the Teleri in Valinor. The Sindar seemed to as well, though I will admit I never questioned deeply enough to know if there were differences in the specifics.” He paused for a moment. “The Green Elves may not, and the Avari who were left behind rejected the Valar’s teachings when Orome first came to these shores. They likely do not, for they are unlike the elves I grew up with in belief.” 

“If we go further East, they may not look as badly upon you as the ones we have left behind. I thought that the last ones we left looked differently upon you than I had expected.” Andreth looked up at him. “It would be better for you, if I cannot remain with you and you do not go to the Halls.” 

Aegnor’s face was terrible in that moment, full of grief he would not give speech to. Instead he faced forward, and began to lead them further east, ignoring her attempts to bring the topic up again. 

Andreth began to bring up other topics instead, those ones they had discussed in little detail before. Finrod she had known, and Angrod, but of the rest of Aegnor’s family she had less knowledge. So too did Aegnor ask about hers, and she told him of those few he had not known. 

The lands slowly began to change, forests changing to plains at times and then back to forests. Aegnor still seemed to know all the beasts they saw, even those that had been the barest of legends in Beleriand and those Andreth had never heard of before. When questioned, he began to speak more of Valinor, and how the lands had held all that grew and lived in the world and all that would. 

“All except Men,” she said, flicking a stone across their newest lake and watching it create ripples in the water. It was rather, she thought, like what she would have liked to do to Valinor itself. 

He nodded. “And Dwarves, though I know little of Aule’s children. But yes, all save those, and for that I will not walk again on those shores. I could not enjoy the joys of such, knowing what it has cost me.”

It was almost an oath, but filled without the dreadful certainty that he would make further choices for that. Doom laced his words, the certain fate of events that had already been determined and would not be changed before the world or the speaker’s will broke again. 

“Perhaps one day Men will walk on those shores, and you may return,” she said instead of giving voice to the thoughts of anger that filled her, for Aegnor shared those and would not be comforted by such. 

“In Arda Remade, I suspect that will be the case. But if such occurs I do not know if it is truly Valinor, for can the land of the Valar be one that ignores their teachings?” Aegnor looked at her then, and she knew he was simply trying to give her a discussion like those she had left behind. 

She took it, grateful for the chance to lose herself in such a discussion once more. They began to pass their days like that, their first hours after waking discussing the past and the rest on the future, though Aegnor still avoided the questions of what he intended to do after death. 

It had been two years since they set forth from the lake when they finally reached what they had sought. The Men in each land they passed began to give word of elves living nearby, and did not even glance at Aegnor after the first, not even to question if he was truly an elf. 

They did not discuss such openly, but Andreth knew they both clung to the same desperate hope that this meant Aegnor would not be alone in the future. 

They finally found a lake surrounded by small homes, some on the ground and some in the trees, all of them disappearing into their surroundings as though they were there one moment and gone the next. The elves who lived in the village were much the same, though Andreth could feel them watching as she and Aegnor waited patiently side by side near the lakeshore. She wondered if they too thought fire and water would protect against Morgoth, for even here she could see the marks of his past torments in the layout of the village, and how there were signs of mourning and protection still carved into the very foundations of the houses. 

Eventually one came out and lit the fire. When they came near it, so too did other elves, coming out of the shadows and out of their homes, though some seemed to appear from nowhere at all. Aegnor gave most of the explanations, slowly piecing together sentences from words only half remembered from the records of the loremasters in Valinor. Eventually, it seemed that he had discovered how to explain their quest, at least, and that they sought only a safe place to remain together.

Andreth had grown old as they journeyed. Older than she had been when they left, and more frail, and Aegnor did not lightly turn aside from her to explain why they had come this far east. But neither did he keep Andreth from pushing forward to the fire herself, sitting down next to elves she had never met before, and already trying to decipher their speech and discover their legends. 

Eventually, they were shown to a house. Andreth thought it belonged to the first elf who had appeared, but found she could not quite remember that much of the conversation, slipping straight into thoughts of the next elf and the next, all of them different from those they had known. 

“Do you think they will permit you to remain here after my death?” she asked that night as she laid down in the bed they had been given. 

Aegnor settled in beside her, as he had for years now, even though she had told him he need not if he did not wish to. “Most likely, or at least they will not make me leave for the same reasons they would have in Beleriand.” 

“I noticed that not all of them seem to be embodied themselves,” she said. Even the elleth that had greeted them second had seemed less present than the others, though it had been dark enough that Andreth’s failing eyesight had been unable to tell why. But there had been others later, who spoke tongues more similar to the ones they had left behind in the west, and who had appeared to Andreth to be the same as Aegnor.

“They were not.” Aegnor rested his head against hers, though she could not feel any weight as he did. She did not think she should be able to feel the echo of his breath either, but that too she felt against her forehead. “You need not have such concerns on my behalf. I will be well, no matter what fate awaits me” 

“My time comes, whether we will it or not. I would know what fate awaits you before I go.” There was no time any longer to avoid this conversation, and only the certainty of that conviction gave her the energy to continue it now. She could not allow him to avoid her questions forever. “I do not wish to go to the grave with my questions unanswered.” 

“I will wait for you again,” Aegnor said. “Andreth, I will wait forever by these shores if I must.” 

“And why would you wait here in particular, if such will not help you?” Andreth lifted her head from the pillows, looking at the spirit who had once been her lover and now was her closest companion. “You are not the type to wait in eternal longing in one place, nor would I wish you to do so if there are other places that would make you happier.” 

“I am happy when you dwell by my side.” Aegnor continued to rest his head against hers, as though he could avoid such problems only by following Andreth’s lead. 

She shook her head at the thought. “And I am happy with you by mine, but that does not provide a solution to your problem. I do not wish to leave you only to find you have gone to some strange doom through grief.” 

“Then we will avoid such. Join me. Bind your spirit to mine, and let us dwell together among the Avari, or venture forth into the world until we fade to nothingness. But I will not go to the Halls now, where my family would keep hopes alive that I would return to them.” Aegnor finally pulled back, looking her in the eyes as though that alone would show how gravely he had considered the matter. “I have chosen you, as none among my people have done before, and I will keep that choice unto what end it brings me.” 

“I do not know if I shall be permitted the same choice.” Andreth considered the possibilities of such. A win against Morgoth, who had taken away their lives in the first place. A spite against those who had wished to keep them apart until there were no battles, as though such was possible now. A chance to learn more, and to spend what time remained with Aegnor, and to exchange stories with those here. 

“You need not be permitted a choice. I was not, and yet I have taken it.”

Andreth slept beside him that night, as Aegnor kept watch, a sleepless spirit staring into the night sky through the open window of their hut. And if she woke to walk beside him in body, or walked beside him in the manner of Aegnor himself, no tale in Valinor or the lands to the west would ever say for sure. 

But gentle sparks of fire continued to surround them gently, warming them as Aegnor kept his gaze on the North and the West, save for when it drifted to Andreth herself, until such time as she decided her own fate. 

And upon the shores of the lake, sometimes it would seem as though there was a whisper on the wind and embers falling from the sky. 


End file.
